Savior
by 3VAD127
Summary: Sometimes even the most unlikely of people can be the greatest of heroes. [COMPLETE]
1. Post Mortem

**Disclaimer:** _Kim Possible_ and all related other stuff belongs to Disney, not me.

**Author's Notes:** Kudos to my main man Rob for doing a bon-diggity beta-reading job. Thanks a ton!

I would also like to inform you that I'm not usually into sad stuff, but I would like to expand my horizons; so please feel free to drop by a review. Flames are accepted not because I am desperate, but because I really want to know if I suck or not. ;) Thanks in advance.

**Post Mortem**

Ron Stoppable groaned for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day. He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair and slouched over just a little bit more, adjusting the strap on his backpack over his shoulder. He wore his purple number 7 jersey and a pair of trademark khaki cargoes. It was the beginning of a new school year, and a dense cloud of despair and monotony hung over the school's youth. This cloud especially affected young Stoppable, whose blossoming relationship with world-renowned teen hero Kim Possible seemed to be taking a turn for the worse. They had been dating for less than four months, and already, Ron felt he had royally screwed up.

Kim hadn't spoken to him in over a day. She hadn't called him last night, and Ron hadn't seen hide nor hair of her all that day.

This wouldn't have been so bad under normal circumstances. If she had told him what he had done… it would've been so much easier. He could buy her flowers and candy and beg her forgiveness, forever pledging his allegiance and gratefulness if she would only smile and say, "I forgive you."

But no.

He had heard nothing, which only made his suffering worse. He had no idea how Kim felt about him now. To say it was hard was a massive understatement. He and KP had been tight since they were four; to suddenly lose communication… it was unthinkable. Never in the history of their relationship had they been apart for more than a few days—Camp Wannaweep not included, of course.

Ron supposed it wasn't the fact they were apart for so long, but rather the fact that Kim had left in such a foul mood. Nothing hurt him more than seeing his lady down.

He _wished _he could apologize. He _wished_ he could run up to Kim and tell her how much she meant to him. But she was nowhere to be found.

But that wasn't the half of it.

He had gotten another _F_ in Barkin's math class; he accidentally walked into the girls' locker room after gym; and new and tougher bullies had taken over the duties of the D-hall regulars. They, too, were seniors, and thus had the "right" to do whatever they pleased—this just so happened to be a swirly and a viciously devastating wedgie. Ron winced. He still felt it.

His only consolation for the past few days and over the summer had been Kim, but now she was gone. So here he was, trudging glumly through the crowded hallways of Middleton High School with loneliness and a naked mole rat as his only companions. As he passed by the gym, he happened to glance at the sign hanging on the double doors. It read, "Under Construction. Hazardous Area; Do Not Enter."

Huh. That was funny. He didn't remember the gym being under construction. He shot a double-take and peeked through the foggy glass doors. Ron couldn't see a thing.

"Hey Rufus," he said, "Do you see anything?"

Rufus climbed onto Ron's shoulder and peered through the cracks, sniffing intently. He stopped, then shrugged. "Nuh-uh."

Ron rubbed his chin. "Yeah, talk about weird, I…" Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of red among the sea of students. He straightened up and dashed after it, pushing through the crowded hallways awkwardly. Rufus clung tightly to his shoulder, doing his best not to fall off. The students seemed to walk slowly like zombies, each following after the other in a morose sort of order. Ron pushed and shoved and slid his way through the mass, only barely being able to keep up with the occasional flashes of red.

_Where is she going?_ he thought. Ron glanced at a clock on the wall as he rushed by. Three-ten. _Cheer practice._ And that meant he had football practice.

_Whoa!_ Ron had to force himself not to slow down. Where had the day gone? It seemed like just a few minutes ago that he was failing math class.

Rufus uttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Kim!"

He was losing her. He'd never be able to catch up with KP in time…

The bobbing red mass always seemed to be just in front of him, but always out of his reach. He tried his best to keep up and almost lost her once or twice. Suddenly she came to a stop. The halls no longer held swarming masses of tired students. They were empty.

Except for her.

Kim Possible stood in front of the worn wooden-and-glass doors of the gym, staring up at the glowing exit sign posted above. She wore her cheer uniform with her backpack slung over one shoulder. A glazed, vacant stare occupied her usually bright features.

"Hey, KP," Ron said, breathless. He rested his hands on his knees, then said, "What up? Does this mean you guys are going to practice on the football field again?"

Kim didn't answer. She just stared, her glassy eyes seemingly looking at nothing and her perfect lips hanging slightly apart.

"Uh, hello? Earth to KP?" Ron waved a hand in front of her face.

This caught her attention. She shook her head, fiery red locks falling over her eyes. "Oh, hey, Ron. What up?"

"Nothin', just on my way to football practice." He glanced at the sign again. "Hey, does this mean I'll get to watch you guys practice?"

Kim shrugged. "I guess. It depends where we decide to relocate."

"Well, it'd be totally badical if the squad could cheer on the sidelines."

Kim sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Ron, remember what happened _last_ time?"

"Uhh…"

"You got so distracted that you accidentally ran into a parked car. It just so happens that the parking lot has a slight incline to it. The car started forward, it crashed into the bleachers… and the goalposts… and the stadium lights."

Ron rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Heh heh, yeah. I remember that…"

Kim looked at him. "What _exactly _happened, Ron? I didn't get all the details."

"Heh. Well, you see, KP, it was, uh…"

A shrill scream interrupted their conversation. It bounced around the hallways, piercing Ron's brain with chilling swiftness and paralyzing him with a sharp pain. He covered his ears with his hands and grimaced.

But as soon as the sound had come, it was gone.

Ron rubbed his forehead, trying to chase away the beginnings of a massive migraine. He groaned, then said, "Man, KP, that was weird." He continued to massage his scalp, expecting a snide remark or sarcastic comment from his girlfriend.

It never came.

Ron looked up.

Kim was gone.

----------

"K-Kim?"

Ron uttered her name softly, scarcely believing it to be true. She had disappeared, right into thin air.

"KP? This isn't funny…"

No answer.

He quietly padded forward, keeping on the lookout for some unforgiving prankster who decided to play a very bad joke on him.

"Kim? Where…" Ron spotted the clock. Nine a.m., it read. Huh. That was funny. When he was with Kim, it was already 3:10…

This was not normal.

"KIM!" Ron's desperate voice echoed through the empty hallways and reverberated off the cold stone floor. No one was there to hear him. No one was there to help.

"KP, where ARE YOU?!"

Ron took off like a bullet from a shotgun. He darted through the empty hallways, all the while screaming Kim's name. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know _when_ he was. All he _did_ know was that he had to find Kim.

He ran frantically like a madman on a quest for gold. He was fueled by desperation and chased by despair. He clawed at the air, willing himself to go faster. His chest heaved and his throat burned; what was going on?

All he _did_ know was that he couldn't find her.

And that clock on the wall was seriously messed up.

And as soon as it had begun, it was over. Ron rushed straight into a brick wall. No, scratch that; it was Mr. Barkin.

Ron landed on the ground with a _thud_. He picked himself up and brushed past Barkin, muttering a faint "Pardon."

The teacher put a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on, Stoppable? No running in the halls; you know that."

Ron rested his hands on his knees and gasped, "I was… with Kim and… she… disappeared." He finally managed to choke out the rest of the sentence. "Have… have you seen… her?"

And then something shocking happened.

Mr. Barkin's hardened features melted into something a little softer. He gave Ron a look that almost resembled… pity? He rested a gentle hand on Ron's shoulder and escorted him through the hallway and out the door.

"No, I haven't seen her," Steve whispered. Well, 'whispered' compared to the mock yelling tone he usually spoke with. He steered Ron out onto the football field where the rest of the team was practicing.

"Oh, OK, Mr. B," Ron said. "I'll just look for her after practice." He started to jog towards the locker room, but Barkin held him back.

"You know, Stoppable, I told you that you didn't have to come to practice anymore."

Ron stopped and looked back at his coach. "Uh, why would I do _that_? I love being on the team, Mr. B. You know that. I may not be the best, but it's what I want to do."

A few of the team members had stopped practicing for a moment and were giving Ron looks that sort of unnerved him. He saw sadness, pity, and even a little bit of – despair? – in their eyes.

The blond glanced around the field. "Uh, hi." He gave a nervous wave. "Coach," he whispered, "what's everybody looking at?"

Coach Barkin put a hand on his shoulder. "It's OK, son," he said. "You don't have to pretend like it never happened."

"Excuse me?"

"I know that this must be a hard time for you, but given the circumstances, I don't think that coming back onto the team is such a good idea."

Now he was agitated. "Look, Mr. B," Ron said forcefully. "I am _not_ quitting the team. I don't know what you're talking about, but I never _did_ quit the team. I never _have_, never _will_." He crossed his arms. "And just _why_ are you being so nice to me today?"

A brief look of confusion flashed across Coach Barkin's face, but as quickly as it had come, it was replaced with a look of understanding. He motioned for Ron to stand next to him.

"Come here, Stoppable."

Ron jogged back over to Barkin. "I want to show you something," he said. "Something that might jog your memory."

OK, this day was officially turning out to be a 10.9 on the Weirdness Scale.

Steve lead Ron across the well-manicured football field to the sidewalk. They walked silently, neither of them bothering to speak. Barkin eventually led Ron through the curving hallways of the school and stopped in front of the gymnasium. The sign was still up, but a little corner of it was ripped off.

Rufus stood on Ron's shoulder, quietly taking in the whole incident. Ron looked to his little buddy for help, but the mole rat just shrugged. He was as clueless as Ron.

"Uh, Coach, what exactly is this all abo… oh, look, if this is because of that whole 'destroying the entire football stadium' incident, I'm real sorry—"

Barkin actually let out a small laugh. "No, this isn't about that." His expression suddenly turned serious. "But I think there's something you should see." He removed the orange doorjack and opened the gym door.

Ron and his teacher entered the dark, cavernous room, filing through the door one at a time. As soon as they entered, Ron's nose crinkled in disgust. A pungent odor that smelled something like mold and spoiled milk. And then, there was something else Ron couldn't identify.

The gym probably hadn't been opened in weeks, by the smell of it.

Or cleaned.

The entire room was deathly silent, and the duo's footsteps echoed loudly off of the cavernous walls. The room was pitch black except for a few weak streams of light entering through a gaping hole in the ceiling.

_That's why it's closed._

Barkin kept walking, the soles of his shoes unceremoniously shattering the silence. An invisible cloud of gray hung over the gym, smothering anyone who dared enter the room. The atmosphere was thick and dank, and it carried the weight of what seemed like a thousand worlds on its back.

Ron stuck close to Mr. Barkin, not wanting to be left alone. His sneakers were soaked already, having been forced to slosh through numerous puddles of unknown origin. He shivered, rubbing his arms for protection. From what – or from who – he did not know.

Steve finally stopped approximately in the center of the room. A yawning chasm stood in front of him, about six feet wide. It snaked from the northwestern end of the gym to the southeastern, reaching its largest width in the center – right where Ron and Barkin were standing.

Ron peered nervously over the edge. He was still shivering, and his blond hair was matted to his head from the moisture in the room. He opened his mouth to speak, but Barkin shushed him.

He pointed to the chasm. "Remember this, Stoppable?"

Ron once again tried to see over the edge, but all he could make out was blackness. He was afraid that if he fell in, it might smother his scream and swallow him whole.

"Uh, no, not really. And y'know, I think I'd remember."

Mr. Barkin stood stock-still, never once taking his eyes off of the hole at his feet. His back was ramrod straight, his eyes an unreadable murky color. Drops of moisture mixed with sweat rolled down his face. Never once did he flinch.

He seemed to ignore Ron's comment.

"Uh, OK." _Why is everyone acting so weird today?_ "If you'll excuse me, Coach, I think I'll go look for Kim now." Ron was anxious to once again begin his search, but the vice-like grip of Mr. Barkin once again stopped him in his tracks.

When Barkin spoke, his voice was choked with emotion. "Stoppable… Ron," he said. "I don't think that's going to be necessary." He took a deep breath, as if summoning Herculean strength for a feat he did not wish to attempt. For the first time since entering the gym, he looked Ron in the eye.

Ron didn't like what he saw.

"Ron, don't you remember?"

Barkin's gaze was full of sadness, regret, and more than a little bit of despair. He took a deep breath.

"Kim Possible is dead."


	2. Ave Atque Vale

**Disclaimer:** Alas, I own nothing. _KP_ and all that good stuff belong to Disney.

**Author's Notes:** Wow, I really thought this story would only be one chapter long, but it's really becoming something a little bigger. Sorry, but I'll try and get the chapters beta-read and uploaded as soon as possible. I hope you guys will be satisfied with the amount of material in this chapter. I might re-read chapter 1 and work out a few bugs, so it might change just a tad.

Err, sorry if Ron seemed a tad OOC first chapter. First running around like a maniac and then just walking away calmly…? Well, he's got more guts than me.

Special thanks goes to cpneb, AtomicFire, and Zaratan for reviewing last chapter. The eNacos should be arriving in your inbox shortly!

Also, sorry this chapter's a little short. I try to avoid author's notes at the end of stories; I think it kinda takes away from the whole effect of it. Hope you enjoy the second installment, and don't forget to review.

**Ave Atque Vale**

_Barkin's gaze was full of sadness, regret, and more than a little bit of despair. He took a deep breath._

"_Kim Possible is dead."_

The words hung in the air, echoing off of the walls of the gym and striking a chord in Ron's heart. His chest reverberated, and a cold chill crept up his limbs, froze his brain, and attacked his heart with vicious ferocity.

No. No way.

There was no way she was…

Ron Stoppable felt like he was going to vomit. There was no possible way in the entire history of infinity that this could really be happening to him. Kim Possible was bullet-proof. She was smart, athletic, a go-to gal; she always had an uplifting attitude and a "knock 'em dead" approach to everything. She had battled countless villains, foiled their schemes, and engaged in hand-to-hand combat with some of the most deranged and dangerous bad guys out there, all to come home in time for dinner and say that it was "No big."

She was… she was… _invincible_. Nothing in the world could stop her. Not even Death.

There were so many emotions swirling around in Ron's mind – he didn't know which ones to believe were real. He didn't know which ones he _dared_ believe were real.

The only way to explain it was Ron's brain shut down. He saw nothing, he felt nothing.

"No. You're lying," he said. His voice was raspy and mechanical, like some robot. His brown eyes stared at Mr. Barkin, literally burning into him. His pupils were dilated, his irises filled with shadowy contempt that cast a dark silhouette over the blond's features.

Ron's freckles scrunched together as he squinted at Barkin. "You… I always knew you hated me, but this has gone way too far."

"What?"

Ron was in shock. That was the only way to explain it. To think, that _his_ teacher had _the nerve_ to go and tell him that his girlfriend was…

And all because of that stupid look freshman year.

Ron stomped up to Barkin, pulling him down towards him by the tie. Ron's eyes shot arrows through his teacher. "Don't you _dare_ lie to me or act all innocent," he spat. "I _know_ you're full of it and you're just making it all up—"

"Stoppable," Barkin growled, wrenching his vice-like grip off of his tie. "Watch it." His gaze was hard as steel, slicing through Ron with a hidden warning.

"I saw her this morning," Ron said. His voice was quiet, yet rock-solid and laced with venom. He shoved an accusing finger at the senior faculty member's chest. "This is all part of your sick little revenge plot. Well, you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna _ignore_ you. Yeah, that's right; Kim and I are cool. I'll still come to football practice, I'll still go to work at Smarty Mart, and I'll _still_ spend all my free time with KP… and there's _nothing you can do about it_." Ron accentuated each word sharply, driving the point home.

And then his facial muscles relaxed, forming a smug grin. "Because Kim and I are cool."

And with that, Ron walked off, leaving Mr. Barkin alone beside the gaping crevasse. Steve sighed, and for perhaps the first time in his life hunched over to hold his head in his hands. He could barely feel the icy chill creeping through the air into his skin; nor smell the stench of mold; nor notice the dark, fetid puddle water soaking through his shoes.

"Now what am I going to do?" The question was spoken so softly that even Barkin himself didn't know he had said it.

He had told Stoppable the bad news, and the poor kid seemed to be in shock. No matter how much he shouted at Ron or gave him extra homework or detention, he never _hated_ him. Ever. It was just his job as a teacher to poke and prod and get kids to do their work. The tough military man exterior was really a cover for something else – something that hated to see kids upset or failing. Something that forced guys and girls to stop slacking and live up to potential. Something that wasn't going to let Ron Stoppable get away in a state of mind like that.

Steve Barkin squared his shoulders and stood up. This was definitely going to be the most challenging case of his entire career.

----------

Ron Stoppable walked coolly down the empty hallways, his footfalls echoing through the semi-cavernous areas. He plodded quickly, confidently, ready to resume his search for Kim. He was still steaming after what Barkin had the nerve to tell him, and he couldn't help but frown. Clenching his fists, he stalked down the hallway when he heard the shrieking echo of a cry for help. It sounded exactly like the one he heard earlier, except sharper. Clearer. Devastatingly more painful.

Ron immediately collapsed on the ground, not even able to yell or cry for help. His body was paralyzed with a pain that felt similar to thousands of knives being shoved violently into his body. He tried to move his hands to cover his ears, but the screaming persisted.

And as soon as it had begun, it was over. Once again. Just like last time.

And just like last time, Ron had the eerie feeling something was not right.

The clock. He glanced up. Three-eleven.

Holy crap.

----------

Ron didn't know how long he lay there, staring at the hands of the clock. Could've been days. Hours. Just a few seconds. He didn't know.

But what he _did_ know was that something was off. He—

"Hey, Ron." The tantalizingly sweet voice of his girlfriend met his ears.

"K – Kim?"

She still had her cheer uniform on, and she looked stunning as usual. She gave him a big smile and held out her hand. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"Uh…"

She held up a hand. "No, wait, don't answer that." Kim grinned again and picked him off the floor. Ron brushed off his clothes and gave her a questioning glare.

"Where were you, KP? You're freaking me out. Next time you decide to disappear, warn me, will ya?"

"I was dead." The words came out of her mouth, but her lips were moving and saying something else entirely.

Barkin's speech rushed through Ron's head. _"Kim Possible is dead"__…_

Ron felt his heart jump into his throat. "Wh – what?" he croaked.

Kim gave him a strange look. "I said I was here the whole time. Are you _sure_ you're OK?" She arched an eyebrow.

Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I think." He added this last part under his breath, quietly enough so Kim couldn't hear him.

"Oh, Ron, I want to show you something. Come with me!" She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see!" was her cryptic answer.

They stopped outside the gym. The sign was still there, but something was different. Before, the sign was crumpled and battered, a small corner ripped off. Now, it was brand new. Just like when he first noticed it there…

Kim threw open the doors and stepped in. Ron followed, sniffing tentatively. No spoiled milk. No mold. The gym had been cleaned recently, and there were no puddles. Odd.

But then again, wasn't everything now?

The hole in the ceiling was still there, but Kim motioned for him to follow her to the middle of the gym. She stopped at the edge of the large crevasse and peered down into the pitch-blackness.

"Sooo, this is what you wanted to show me?"

Kim turned to him and nodded, smiling. "Watch this," she said. Kim tiptoed toward the edge of the pit, glancing anxiously down towards it. She teetered on the edge for a moment, danced the line, and finally jumped, executing a perfect swan dive.

_Oh God…_ "Kim! KIM!" Not again. Good Lord in Heaven, please not again!

Ron practically jumped over to the edge of the crevice and stared down into it, his eyes welling with tears. "Kim, please!" he shouted. His voice echoed off the sharp walls, vibrating his eardrum fiercely.

A bright red head popped up a few feet away from him. She waved and smiled at him. "Hi, Ron!" she said. "Over here!"

"What the—?"

"I just found this yesterday. It's neat, huh?" Kim rocked back and forth, and for one panicked moment, Ron thought she was going to fall again. She didn't. She smiled again, showing off her perfect white teeth.

Ron swallowed and faked a smile. "Yeah, KP, it's great." He looked over the edge – he still saw nothing, not even a bottom.

"Wanna play?" Kim was grinning ridiculously, giggling and joking like it was all fun.

"Uhh… actually, I'm not in the mood right now, thanks. Maybe later—" _That's it; KP's totally and completely off her rocker._

"Why not now?"

"Well, I uh… wanted to… ask you something! Yeah. That's it."

"OK. I'm listening." Kim folded her hands under her chin and rested her elbows on the edge of the gap.

Ron took a deep breath. "Well, I was talking to Barkin earlier… can't stand the guy, by the way… and he told me… he said—"

Ron choked back the urge to vomit right there. He turned his head so Kim wouldn't see him gag. Then he said, "He… he told me youweredead!"

Kim stared at him like he had grown a second head. "Ron."

No response.

"Ron."

He couldn't bear to turn his head towards her.

"Look at me!"

His head snapped to attention, his troubled gaze fixed on her.

"I. Am. Here." Kim motioned to her body. "I am not dead. Barkin is obviously a liar – and a bad one at that."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But – but he's supposed to be a teacher. How could he say something so horrible?"

Kim shrugged. "I don't know, Ron. You've always complained that he had a 'thing' for you since the 'funny look incident' freshman year."

"Maybe… I never knew Mr. B would take it so far. I knew he was mean, but I didn't think…" Ron trailed off, and a smothering silence soon followed. They didn't look at each other for a few minutes.

Ron finally sighed and stretched, taking a moment to stand up. "Well, Kimbo, it was good seeing you again. Beautiful as usual. I'll see you tomorrow, OK? I think I'm going to skip on the obligatory Bueno Nacho trip. I'll just raid the pantry and catch some _Z_'s, all right? This whole Barkin sitch is freaking me out."

Kim nodded. "All right. I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and if you need me, I'll be right here."

Ron gave her a strange look.

She rolled her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position on the edge of the crevice. "Night, Ron."

"Night, KP." He bent down and gave her a kiss.

"Hmm…" she sighed. "You know, I don't think I've had one of those since Prom."

"Yeah, I know. For some reason, we're always getting interrupted—"

"—mostly by Wade, too! Huh. Well, see you tomorrow, Ron."

"OK. Bye." Ron walked out of the gym, looking back once or twice to give Kim another little wave. She rolled her eyes and waved back as his silhouette finally disappeared through the doorway.

----------

Steve Barkin sat in his squeaky old computer chair, his eyes scanning over the information on the screen. He rubbed his chin, then clicked on the article. He skimmed through it when a phrase caught his eye. He hovered over the article link for a few moments before selecting it. A page entitled "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder" popped up on the screen.

Coach Barkin sighed and went to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of regular coffee. He had to catch up on his reading.


	3. Quaere Verum

**Disclaimer:** Do I even have to say it? (sigh) Fine. Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, and the gang all belong to… Disney, not me. (sniff)

**Author's Notes:** Special thanks to AtomicFire, Zutara Livs On, The Real Sidekick, Sharksbean, and Etherelemental for reviewing last chapter. Also thanks to Sharksbean and dr-fan/mai-lover for reviewing the first chapter. Welcome to the party!

Alright, this is going to be the last official chapter, plus bonus epilogue. Had to add a flashback so it wouldn't be so short. Hope you guys like, and don't forget to leave a review:3 Y'all are awesome.

Oh, here's some info, if you guys were wondering:

_Post Mortem_ – after death

_Ave Atque Vale_ – hail and farewell

_Quaere Verum_ – seek the truth

**Quaere Verum**

The next few weeks passed by in a haze for Ron. He would go to school and see his lady every day. There were no classes, which he found to be a bit strange, but he quickly shook the feeling off and got back to living his life.

Every day, he would meet Kim in front of her house, and they would walk to the park or Bueno Nacho, or sometimes even the school. It was during these visits that Ron was the most apprehensive. Kim would always insist on "playing" dangerously close to the gap in the gym floor, begging him to come join her. He would graciously refuse, offering a lame excuse or goofy crack instead. She would smile, shrug, and continue on with her game.

Every day that Ron visited, it seemed like something inside him relaxed a little bit more. At first, he refused to even look at the gaping hole in the floor – his mind kept wandering back to the scare she had given him on the first day of their "re-encounter." He wasn't nearly so tense around her _or_ it anymore, and she was visibly pleased by his progress. He seemed to be getting over his fear. In fact, it didn't even _look_ that scary anymore. It wasn't a dangerous crevice where someone could get hurt; it was just another hole to explore or secret to unearth.

When he and Kim went anywhere, it felt… different. Normally, people would stop and wave, or even point and shout in hysteria at the two famous teens who traveled around the world, saving lives. But now, the same people that would wave or yell hysterically just… stared. Some gave him a look of disgust, while others searched him with their eyes, as if expecting some "missing piece" to fall into place next to him. But most just gazed at him with sympathy, dread, and sometimes horror.

It didn't feel right. None of it did. But Ron shrugged it off; he was with Kim – his lady – and that's all that _really_ mattered. After all, his motto was, "Never be normal!" It was only _right_ people should stare.

His parents, for the most part, stayed away from him. They gave sympathy and a shoulder to cry on, but Ron felt like he didn't need it. He would wave them off, insisting everything was fine. And it was. But his parents would just look at each other, shake their heads, and walk out of the room.

Ron Stoppable had pretty much fallen off the face of the earth. He talked to no one and socialized with no one except Kim. He hadn't seen the Possibles, Monique, Wade, Felix, or even Rufus since the whole ordeal had started.

And a small, yet ever-growing, part of him wasn't bothered at all. In fact, this section of his mind dictated that this was the way it _should_ be: Just him and Kim Possible, together, forever, for the rest of their lives. No one else. And forever was a really long time.

Other things happened, too. He still heard the piercing cry for help, but he ignored it. The clock was still whacked – changing constantly from one time to the next – but he paid no attention. People would stare. He didn't give a rip. His phone would ring. He never answered it. The Kimmunicator would beep. Have Wade take a message. Ron wanted to spend every waking minute with Kimberly Ann Possible.

So he did.

----------

_Ron stomped through the door and slammed it shut, causing the whole house to rattle. A picture on the wall fell and broke, its frame bent lopsided and the glass shattered on the floor. He paid it no heed, his heel crunching over the broken glass in his rush up the stairs. He took them two at a time, his anger never once receding until he slammed the attic door._

_He pounded the walls with his fists, trying to vent his anger. Ron kicked and screamed and yelled, all the while bloodying his hands with a relentless onslaught against the rough attic walls._

_He and Kim had had their first major fight (supersuit incident notwithstanding), and he was furious. Who did she think she was, acting all high and mighty… "I can do anything!" Yeah, right…_

"_Stupid Kim… stupid girls… stupid attitude… Yeah, KP?!" He was shouting now. "Well, maybe you **can't** do anything!"_

_Horror._

_He stopped pounding. His eyes widened in shock even as the words flew past his lips. His bloody fists slowly came to a halt. He didn't…_

_Shock._

_He did. Ron couldn't dare to admit it. There, he had said it. But he didn't mean it!_

_Disgust._

_He was horrible. No person in their right mind would think such things. Kim **could** do anything. She **was** invincible. Yes, she had her moments, but she always came back on top._

_Stupid Kim?… Stupid girls?… Stupid attitude?…_

_Stupid **him**._

_Ron slowly slid to the floor, twisting, and resting his head in his hands. He barely even noticed the terrible splinters lodged in his fingertips and through his palms. He didn't know how long he sat there, or how long he cried. The only thing he did know was—_

_Misery._

_So… that was it then. It was over. No more Kim. No more sidekick. No more best friend/boyfriend "let's go to the movies and not really care where we end up" dates. No more missions, or one-on-one tutoring lessons, or "let's be kids again" moments, or making out on the beach, or… or…_

_Realization._

_He had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him. All thanks to his big mouth. Bonnie was right; he was such a loser._

_So Ron sat there, his resolve shattered, his reason to live – gone. He was broken, and he knew it. That was it, Universe; Ron Stoppable was done. Fate had finally won – Universe: 6 gazillion. Ron Stoppable: zero. It seemed the only place he had actually **won** was getting the girl – for however short a period of time it was._

_The blond-haired, freckle-faced, tow-headed eighteen-year-old threw in the towel in his attic bedroom. He was finished._

_It was sometime later that a bright red head popped up from beneath the attic trap door. Emerald eyes scanned the room and fell upon a restless figure huddled up in a corner._

_Kim Possible gathered up the squirming bundle in her arms and propped herself against the doorway._

"_So… are you going to let me in?"_

_Ron didn't move, just sort of sniffed miserably and mumbled something under his breath._

_Kim sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said. It's just… I don't know what it is, to be honest with you. No matter how many times I am… I **pretend** to be the 'Girl Who Can Do Anything,' the truth is, on the inside, I'm just a normal girl." Kim gave a small smile. "And, you know, as a normal girl… my boyfriend's opinion means the world to me. But you know, sometimes I need more than just his opinion. I need his **backup**. And at the time, I was too stubborn to realize any of that."_

_She played with a strand of hair as she set her bundle on the edge of the opening. A piece of fabric slowly fell back to reveal jet black hair and dark eyes. Hana giggled as Kim rubbed her tummy._

_Ron looked up, wiping stray tears from red, puffy eyes._

"_She's so adorable," Kim cooed as she played with Hana._

_Ron gazed at Kim. When he spoke, his voice was a mix of emotions. "D-Did you really mean all that, KP?"_

_She smiled. "Of course I did. Hana is the cutest ever." Kim allowed for an inward smile as Ron gave a stuttered reply._

"_N-No, I mean… about the whole… 'I need you' thing."_

_Kim gazed at Ron. Her voice was steady, her eyes filled with determination, resolve, and meaning. "Ron," she said, "you're my best friend, boyfriend, **and** my partner. I couldn't save the world without you."_

_A small smile spread across Ron's face. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and made his way toward Kim. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "I should've respected your need to accomplish things on your own. It's just part of your natural Kimness. I'm sorry if I overstepped a boundary."_

"_Ron, you only did what you thought was best." She scooted closer. "And I respect that."_

_He opened his arms and embraced her in a hug._

"_No matter what…" he started._

"… _or where…" she said, catching on._

"… _or when…" A goofy grin spread across his face._

_They said in unison, "… I'll always love you, Kim Possible/Ron Stoppable." Kim smiled at Ron and rested her head on his chest. He hugged her as she held Hana in her lap. Kim breathed in deeply, never wanting to forget this moment. Maybe sometime in the future, it would be her and Ron's child sitting where Hana was right now…_

_Kim blushed. That was a long time away._

_Ron seemed as caught up in the moment as she. He rested his chin in her hair, taking in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. Hana cooed and gripped Kim's arm tightly._

_Kim, Ron, and Hana stayed in that position for a while until Mrs. Stoppable called them all down for dinner. One thing was for certain: It was a break-up and make-up that neither would forget._

----------

Ron smiled grimly, remembering all of the details vividly. He had gone back through the house later that day and had picked up the picture with the bent frame. He was heartbroken to see it was a picture of him and Kim as kids, laughing and smiling stupidly as a random photo was taken.

He rode his scooter to the store the next day to get another frame. Instead of hanging the newly-improved photograph on the wall, however, he set it on the coffee table in the living room. That way, every day he came home from school, he would remember the fight, the almost-breakup, and what they had both said that day: "No matter what or where or when, I'll always love you."

And they meant it.

Nothing was ever going to change the way he felt for Kim Possible – and vice versa. Nothing. That meant Mr. Barkin, school, football or cheerleading, or even villains. They would _always_ love each other, and they would _always_ find time to spend together, no matter how hectic their schedules would become. It was a silent promise they each made to the other without even knowing it – the kind made by two people so in love and so into each other that they couldn't help but think the same way. Even if they didn't know it.

Ron went over all of this in his mind as he watched Kim throw pieces of concrete down into the gap. She hummed a soft tune to herself, listening to the telltale _click click clack_ of the rocks making their way down the hole.

She threw another one as Ron sat beside her, silently watching. Kim suddenly sighed, got up, and walked toward the edge of the gym.

Ron followed her every move, watching her go. He didn't know what to say; things had been at a sort of quiet impasse between the two. They hadn't talked much the past few days.

Ron sighed too, kicking his feet against the sheer wall of the man-made hole. He gazed down into it, and he realized just how far he had come. He could see what she saw.

It was bright, endearing, sparkling with promise of many fun-filled adventures and excitement to be shared with Kim. Ron grinned. He was ready.

He had seen KP do this many times before. It was easy; just stand, jump, and there you go! Not hard, not hard at all.

Kim was standing beside him again, sadness etched across her beautiful face.

"What's wrong, KP?" he asked softly.

"I-I have to go," she said.

"What do you mean?" Ron's voice became frantic.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I just… can't stay here anymore."

"But KP, I—"

She placed a finger to his lips. "Ron, it's… difficult to explain. It's already hard enough; do you think I really _want_ to leave you?"

Ron shook his head, eyes down toward the floor.

She wrapped him in a hug. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "It's just the way it has to be."

Ron sniffed and returned her hug half-heartedly. "But… where are you going?"

"Down there," she said softly.

"What? That's suicide!"

"I know… but I practically live there now, anyway."

"No!" he whined. "KP, don't leave me all alone! You've given me plenty of scares before; please don't do this!"

Kim pulled away from his embrace. "Sorry, Ron."

"We can get through this! Please, don't do this to me!" He was desperate to keep her with him. Ron wanted to keep his promise – to always be with her, always love her, no matter what.

Her eyes were locked with his, never once leaving. They pleaded with him to understand, to forgive, even as she pulled further and further away. Her red hair whipped around her face, her entire body almost _glowing_ from some unknown source.

He pleaded, sobbed with her to please stay, but she couldn't. Kim walked backward, almost _floating_, towards the deep crevice, her eyes brimming with tears.

Ron knew she couldn't stay, but he couldn't bear to see her leave. She looked so much like an angel…

She mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to him before disappearing down the hole.

"Kim!" he wailed. He could see her receding form becoming a part of the bright, sparkling lights all around him.

"Hurry Ron," she said, her voice having an almost echo-y quality to it, "I don't want to leave you behind." Her red hair billowed out in front of her, creating a halo to frame her perfect face. She sank deeper and deeper, and Ron knew what he had to do.

Ron got up, determination and adrenaline rushing through his veins, pumping his body into overdrive. He stepped back and took a deep, cleansing breath. _He could do this. For her… for him… for __**them**_

He peered down into it, determined to face his fears head-on. Every emotion that had coursed through his body the last few weeks came rushing back in a wave of crushing memories – so heavy they almost crippled him.

But he wouldn't give up.

Heroes didn't give up. Kim never gave up, so neither would he. Ron took a breath, faced it head-on, and danced the line, much like he had seen Kim do so many times over the past few weeks. He could feel the adrenaline, the endearing light soaking into his body and gravitating towards him. His whole body tingled in pleasure, and he could see her face, hear her voice calling out for him. He could feel it; he was so close…

A pair of strong arms wrapped around him, breaking off Ron's downward fall. He was pulled back from the edge, being suspended in the air for a few tense moments. He felt the pleasure recede, his view of Kim once again cut off.

Ron was furious. His world was being taken away from him once again…

"What gives?" he shouted angrily to the man behind him. His captor said not a word, just simply held him in the air like suspended animation.

Ron could feel her slipping away. He remembered her last words; if he didn't leave now, he'd lose her forever!

"Let me go, you freak!" he screamed. He kicked and clawed as best he could, but the man behind him was rock solid.

Ron's screams of anger and hatred soon turned to pleas of desperation. "Please, I'm going to lose her!" he yelled, tears welling in his eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, he could sense the light of his life fading before his very eyes.

"What are you doing?!" His voice was filled with sorrow, hatred, and desperation.

"You aren't losing her. She's already gone." The voice behind him was strong, steely, yet still held a hint of emotion.

"What—?"

His captor shoved Ron's face down towards the crevice. "Look!" he shouted.

Ron saw.

And suddenly, the scales fell from his eyes. His whole world, all that he had imagined to be right… turned out to be wrong.

The bright, piercing light that he had once thought to be his salvation, now was something else completely. He saw it for what it truly was. A deep, yawning chasm with no bottom, yearning to lash out and swallow him in endless blackness.

The man behind him – his savior – wasn't a captor as he had once thought. He was his rescuer. He had saved Ron in the nick of time not from his future, but from his own suicide.

Tears welled in Ron's eyes as he realized who was behind him. Mr. Barkin was right all along; he was real and Kim was not. She really _was_ gone. Staring deep into the chasm in the floor, Ron somehow _knew_ that this was what had claimed the life of his best friend, girlfriend, partner… his world. He _knew_.

And he was ashamed.

Grief overwhelmed him as tears racked his body. He shuddered as sobs poured out from the inside of his very being.

Realization.

Kim really _was_ gone.

He didn't know how, but he was in the bathroom. Ron gripped the cold porcelain tightly as he threw up into the toilet. Mr. Barkin was there, ever present, ever watching, making sure all was as it should be.

Ron knew it was a lie. Nothing would ever be the same again.

_Not without KP._

His mind could barely register the loss._ This is what I was doomed for all along, huh? All the work… the late nights… the memories… All for it to be stripped away in one sickening twist of reality and Fate, once again, playing Ron Stoppable._

Ron felt sick again.

Steve Barkin stood, watching, never once interrupting Ron's train of thoughts. He stood as a guardian, a provoker, one who mocked and prodded only to squeeze the best out of people. He hated that it should be this way, but it was. He had known a day like this would come from the beginning.

_No one could have a bond as strong as theirs and not have trials to overcome_, he thought. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he realized that this was probably the worst obstacle Stoppable would ever face.

_But_, he added, _it's not **what** happens to you, but **how** you handle it._

He stooped, resting a hand on Ron's shoulder.

The blond slumped, resting his face against the cold white bowl.

_At least it's a step in the right direction._

Yes, it was, but somehow, Mr. Barkin knew this wasn't over. Stoppable had many long, agonizingly painful, lonely days ahead of him.

He sighed yet again. _Looks like my work here isn't __**quite**__ finished._ He rubbed Ron's back as the teen once again threw up into the toilet.


	4. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** No, unfortunately, I don't own _Kim Possible _or anything else related to the show, including titular (or otherwise) characters, merchandise, or movie rights. Too bad.

**Author's Notes:** Special thanks goes to The Real Sidekick and cpneb for sending me feedback for the third chapter. I really appreciate it, guys. Y'all are awesome. Also thanks to cpneb for reviewing the second chapter as well. You rock in stereo!

I hope I didn't make things too confusing in the last chapter, but it should all make sense now. I put it under "tragedy" for a reason… Depressed myself for an entire week to get this thing out…

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the final piece to the puzzle. It's going to be a bit shorter than the other chapters, but it will wrap everything up in one convenient, easy-to-read installment.

**Epilogue**

A sleek, black limousine drove along the gravel roadway, its tires grinding against the small pebbles embedded in the dirt. Larger rocks popped underneath the weight of the car. It rode slowly over the primitive pathway, muddy water splashing onto the body as the tires dipped down into unseen puddles. Rain pounded the windshield, making a loud _ping ping pat_ as the water droplets made contact with the aluminum roof and softly rolled off.

The limo drove for a while, then stopped in front of a small clearing. It was surrounded by a field – its tall grasses wighted down by heavy raindrops.

Inside the car, the driver rolled down the divider, but neither chauffeur nor passenger spoke a word. The only thing audible was the whistle of the wind as it whipped past the limo.

Finally, the passenger spoke. "I'll only be a minute. Wait here."

The driver nodded curtly, eyes still glued on the road in front of him.

A tall, burly figure stepped out of the limousine dressed in a sharp three-piece suit. He had no umbrella or raincoat; real men didn't use such amenities.

Or such was the thought of Steve Barkin.

He slammed the car door shut, tiny droplets flinging from the onyx frame onto the ground and wetting his shoes. He stood straight, looking over the clearing for a few moments. Steve was only outside for mere seconds, but already, he was soaked. His dark brown suit clung to his body, and raindrops dripped down his forehead and into his eyes. Barkin wiped them away without even thinking, his mind on the matter at hand.

He felt for the package beneath his jacket. He knew the rain was coming, and he didn't want it to get too wet. He started towards the clearing, his perfectly-shined dress shoes splatting mud all over themselves and the hems of his pants. Steve walked down the short dirt pathway to the middle of the clearing, listening to the sounds of rain beating against the earth.

The path lead to a dead-end – a lone tree sitting in the center of the area. It was black and devoid of any life or leaves, its skeletal fingers stretching far into the darkened sky. It was a macabre icon for what stood here, buried, in this clearing.

Mr. Barkin traced the tree with his eyes, finally resting on the piece of polished stone resting beneath it. There were many others – white, gray, black – scattered across the area, creating line after line of little stone soldiers all marching to the same drummer.

He wasn't interested in those.

He gazed at the letters etched in stone, reading but not really seeing.

_Ronald Eugene Stoppable_

_1989 – 2007_

There was no long, drawn out eulogy. There was no testament to all the good he had done. Just a few words etched into stone, only to be erased by Time. Eventually.

A small, concrete angel stood atop the stone, her face turned upward. Mr. Barkin ran his fingers over her face, softly touching her nose and mouth and finally her eyes.

Steve Barkin sighed softly and hung his head, remembering a time not too long ago.

He had seen the broken bones, scars, and burn marks along Ron's body. All that complaining that Stoppable had done wasn't anywhere near the amount he expected from someone who had taken that kind of a brutal beating for years on end. The missions, football practice, the ever-present bullies, even his own clumsiness… Barkin knew that was what caused it all. Ron would flinch in practice or when he tripped in class, but he always assured the teachers and the nurse he was fine.

How wrong he was.

If only Mr. Barkin had known that Ron did those things for the good of others… maybe then he wouldn't have been so hard on him. Maybe he could've understood. Maybe…

There were way too many "maybes." There was only one fact.

By the time he found out, he was too late. Ron Stoppable was already dead.

No one knew what caused his death. The torn muscles would've fused back together, the massive cuts eventually healed. CSI medical examiners couldn't explain it. The police and FBI just scratched their heads and shrugged, marking down another teenager as a victim of suicide.

Barkin knew it wasn't true. They had already climbed that mountain, passed over that bridge. Ron would've lived his life to the max, just for her – if he had the choice.

Steve knew why he was gone: he didn't belong here. He belonged with her, up there, where they could be eternally happy.

He raised his eyes towards Heaven and gazed at the darkened sky. Rain poured over his body, beating on his face and forearms. Mr. Barkin let himself go of the hardened military man exterior for a brief moment to close his eyes and just… _feel_.

He _felt_ the rain through his soaked brown suit.

He _sensed_ muddy brown water seeping into his polished shoes.

He _felt_ the sorrow and anguish buried here in the cemetery, _heard_ the wind, and _remembered_.

It was a strange sort of remembering. Stoppable was a good kid, and so was Possible. Between the two of them, they had caused enough havoc for Steve to retire early due to massive mental and cardiac trauma. He smiled softly, eyes still closed. But as soon as it had come, it vanished.

_Possible._

No one _really_ knew what happened to her, either. She had died saving the world, but the only witness was now lying beneath a concrete angel, whose face turned towards the sky. They wanted to bury Team Possible together, but since there were no remains of Kim Possible left to bury, they left her with a remembrance ceremony and buried Ron Stoppable by himself beneath a tree.

Barkin shook his head slowly, opening his eyes. Such a sad fate for two teens so young and full of promise. Even in Death they could not be together.

But, Barkin knew, _through_ Death they could finally have the "happily ever after" ending they had always wanted – the same thing they had given to the rest of the world. They had spent so much of their young lives, so much of their time and energy dedicated to the good of the planet that it was only right it should be this way. Yeah, they weren't buried together, but did that really matter in the long run? The only people to appreciate a burial were friends, family, and maybe neighbors. These groups would visit just to remember the dead and gone, but their visits would eventually get fewer and farther between until they just… stopped.

_Nobody lived forever, including those visiting the dead._

Steve Barkin stared at the tree, remembering the day he had found out one of his most promising pupils was gone.

They had found Ron with his face down in the pillow, clinging to her picture for dear life. No movement. Just… gone. They had notified everyone close to Ron, including Mr. Barkin. He had retreated to the privacy of his bathroom to mourn the loss in his own, Barkin-like way.

Because he never really _hated_ Ron.

Once again, he felt the package beneath his coat. He pulled it out and unwrapped it, allowing the rain to pelt it with no reservations. It was a picture – the same one the Stoppables had sitting on their coffee table. Barkin didn't know the vitality of this particular piece of home décor, but it had a certain… something about it. He just knew that this was important.

He set it down on the grave, propping it against the small polished stone. The water droplets ran down the smooth glass, making grooves along the cover and frame. The picture underneath was undamaged, however. And for that, Barkin knew Stoppable would be grateful.

Mr. Barkin stood there for a few more moments, listening to the rain and remembering something prophetic Stoppable had once said (he called it "waxing philosophical").

"_Some people say that when it rains, it's like the angels are crying."_

Mr. Barkin allowed for a grim smile to cross his face as he recalled Ron Stoppable's dark brown eyes and signature goofy grin. As the rain pounded his body, his hard outer covering slowly slipped away, revealing the softer (yet still Barkin-y) inside. A small tear slipped past his defenses, gliding down his face among the raindrops, before mixing and finally being washed away by the cascade of water from above.

"_I guess raindrops and teardrops really aren't all that different."_


End file.
